


Bassline

by thegreatgayjatsby



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, Brief mention of Dave Strider, Escort Eridan, Escort Service, Gen, Gratuitous pseudosituations, March Eridan, Pimp Sollux, Pimplux and Escortidan AU, Pole Dancing, Prostitutes, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, clubs, dubstep - Freeform, pimps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:33:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatgayjatsby/pseuds/thegreatgayjatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sollux Captor, a pimp, watches his favorite employee, Eridan Ampora, poledance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bassline

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU LOVELY MATESPRIT FOR INSPIRING THIS also listen to this mix yall http://8tracks.com/2asian4chu/dubstep-all-over-your-face

You aren’t surprised at the thumping bass, the smoke, the alcohol, the strobe lights. You aren’t surprised at how quickly the scent makes you cough, wrinkle your nose, and blink.

You haven’t been here for more than ten minutes, and already, you’re feeling like you’re about to have an epileptic seizure from the god-awful lighting. There’s some dubstep version of some filthy lyriced popular song, and there are people everywhere. There’s barely any room to breathe, with the crowded bar and dancefloor and people migrating between.

It appears bodies are crammed into every inch of the club, all moving in rhythm to the bassline of the drops going down up near the DJ stand. You eye the blond manning the table with disdain, his aviators flashing. Only douchebags where shades in such ridiculous environments. Tearing your gaze from his rock form, you narrow your eyes.

Usually, on club nights, you’re more than happy to stay hidden away in your office, or better yet, not even in the usually very respectable establishment you’ve come to own. You’re only here to show off a little, to let people know you’re still very much in the game.

You glance around the club, following the crowd. Your gaze lands on the most crowded island podium, and as you figured, there he is. You smirk faintly, prouder than ever of your most notorious monetary investment. He’s your newest employee, and damn, you’ve never regretted hiring him for a minute.

As his pimp, you’re ecstatic, and as his friend, you’re pleased. You watch as he gracefully cat-steps around the little upraised circle of linoleum. He grips the shimmering pole in both hands, swinging around and giving his patrons a bright smile.

He’s wearing a pair of clunky boots, and you’re surprised he can be so delicate with the Demonia gear. He’s got a scrap of fabric across his chest, a strip really, and a plaid pleated skirt clinging low to his hips. His hair is done up in pigtails, and you slowly approach him as he kicks his legs out, raising one to turn himself upside down as he clings to the pole.

You can’t understand how his skirt doesn’t flip, but hey, you don’t care. There’s some things that some people shouldn’t be allowed to see.

You watch as he works the audience just as he works the pole, ankles hooked together as he slithers down the metal, flipping right side up.The crowd cheers and he grabs the pole, wiggling his ass at them.

You purse your lips as he straddles the pole, grinding against it before kicking his legs up as the bass drops and spinning around. Skirt and hair flying, he climbs a bit, rotating slowly until the song ends and he comes to a stop.

You aren’t sure how he notices you in the darkness and the crowd, but he meets your eyes and blows you a kiss. Like you said, you’ve never been more proud of him.


End file.
